


A Kiss in Springtime

by Rubynye



Category: Lord of the Rings - Tolkien
Genre: Multi, Nonmonogamy, Threesome Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-14
Updated: 2010-01-14
Packaged: 2017-10-06 06:25:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/pseuds/Rubynye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The travels of a kiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Kiss in Springtime

**Author's Note:**

> It's the First of May, so I wrote this in its honor. Because. :) I should write a companion version for Lithe. ;D

Title: A Kiss in Springtime  
Author: [](http://rubynye.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://rubynye.livejournal.com/)**rubynye**  
Rating: Light R, more for offscreen implication than onscreen action.  
Pairings: Various. *giggles* From OTP and OT3 to utterly noncanonical.  
Warnings: Slash, femslash, het, my usual cheerful nonmonogamy  
Disclaimer: These characters and their setting don't belong to me.

 

Snug between his cousins, Pippin slept like the innocent babe he surely was not; bright moonlight washed him in light and tinted Frodo pale and sable. It was rather too early to leave the window open of nights, but the breeze was sweet with young herbs and night-blossoms, and the owl's cry wasn't eerie when heard in company, and he was actually warm where Pippin lay against him, so Merry watched Frodo watch Pippin sleep, and tried not to shiver.

Unsuccessfully, judging by Frodo's smile as he reached over Pippin to pull the coverlet round Merry's shoulders; smile broadening, he curved his hand round Merry's cheek and tugged gently. Merry expected a soft goodnight kiss, but Frodo's idea was clearly much firmer and more involved; prickling all over with the heat of it, Merry gasped, and Frodo chuckled, disentangled their mouths and drew back. "Warm now?" Frodo asked, smile wickedly tilted.

Shivering in warmth, Merry swallowed hard, but when he said, "I could stand to be warmer yet," his voice didn't shake. Frodo winked, so Merry clambered over Pippin, who mumbled incoherent protest; as Merry settled astride him, Frodo wound his hands in Merry's hair, his grin flashing in the moonlight.

 

* * *** * *

 

"So, where's my brother?" Pervinca asked in the midst of a dance; considering her bright eyes, Merry briefly debated his answer. "Being the good child," he said, nodding towards where Pippin sat beside his mother being admired by a knot of matrons.

Pervinca tossed her hair without losing her garland of violets, deliberately missing a step to fall soft and warm against him. "It's well you're with the naughty child then, isn't it?"

Her eyes gleamed green, her waist curved beneath his hand; blood pounded in his ears even as he shook his head "'Vinca, your Da will kill me. Then he'll tell my Mam, who'll kill me twice."

"Oh, Merry." A turn, her skirt brushing his calves. "Are there hiding places in Great Smials even you don't know? Come with me, I'll show you some." Another turn, and Merry spun them into a corner overhung with daffodil bouquets and unlit by a cold lamp. Pervinca squeezed his hand, hers moving low on his back; when he kissed her she nipped his lower lip. So he kissed her harder, till her breath stuttered, till she gasped when he stopped; he smirked, and she laughed, tilting her chin up for another.

 

* * *** * *

 

"Miss Vinca!" Long lashes brushed her throat. "I, I---" Kisses on her shoulder where the chemise fell away. "I ought to, there's, there's work t'be done!"

"Of course there is," Pervinca murmured against Rosie's cheek, winding an arm round her waist; when the other hand slid inside her chemise Rosie heard a sound from herself that should've been 'stop!' and sounded far more like 'please!' "I've herbs to be gathering," Rosie protested, even as she sank back into Pervinca's arms, into a concealing nest of green-smelling ferns, the basket falling from her nerveless fingers. "There's always work," Pervinca breathed hot over Rosie's ear, licking along its curve as her hands stroked towards each other, inside and outside of Rosie's chemise.

"Pervinca," Rosie moaned, as her head tipped back and her eyelids sank, as her buckling knees dumped her on Pervinca's lap, as her hands buried themselves in Pervinca's spice-scented hair. "You can't just, just pop from nowhere and catch me, like a magic trick!"

"A magic trick?" Rosie felt Pervinca's hum, prickling through her skin, more than she heard it. "Me, magical. I like the sound of that."

"Oh, _you_," Rosie sputtered, twisting round, laughing with helpless joy as Pervinca kissed her.

 

* * *** * *

 

The evening breeze carding their hair, Rosie and Sam walked the Water's banks. "D'ye ever feel, Sam, you might fill up with sunshine?"

_What possessed me to say sommat so daft?_ Rosie's cheeks blazed as Sam regarded her with wide puzzled eyes, but he gently squeezed her hand. "What d'ye mean, Rosie?"

Well, who else might she tell? Looking at her toes, likely blushing crimson, Rosie stammered, "it's the Spring, there's such work to be done, and yet... some nights, though I'm dropping I feel I could dance, some morns I could just take to my heels, running along with the Sun as She travels the sky." She shook her head. "Pay me no mind. 'Tis naught but foolishness."

"In truth, Rosie, it sounds like a song." Rosie glanced up; Sam gazed ahead, sunset light golden on his face. "I think.... sometimes I work till I ache, and it's good, if you take my meaning. Sometimes when my old Dad won't catch me I close my eyes and feel the sunshine as a flower might." He blushed winsomely. "Sometimes, I come by to see you."

Rosie threw her arms round Sam's neck, and he lifted her off her feet as she kissed him.

 

* * *** * *

 

Sam's head fell back against the ground, grass tickling his cheeks; when he pried his eyes open Frodo grinned at him, blue eyes brighter than the clear sky above. "Hullo, Sam," he said, as calm and cool as if they stood on the Row, rather than lying behind a half-trimmed hedge with Frodo leaning on Sam's chest and Sam's work-smudged hands a nervous fingersbreadth from Frodo's good traveling suit. "Did you miss me?"

"Always and ever, Mr. Frodo, but it seems you hit me fair and square." Frodo laughed, breath warmer than the spring air, and wriggled in a maddening little circle. "Then why won't you touch me?"

"Sir," said Sam, cheeky as he only dared in these moments, heart pounding as those fine dark brows came down. "And how would I answer my sisters, when they fuss on how the Master must have taken up the gardening, with his good suits all over grass and clippings?"

"Sam." Grasping Sam's hands, Frodo drew them up to his curls. "My hair will wash, and the redoubtable Misses Gamgee untroubled for it." Silky locks between his fingers, Sam cradled Frodo's head in his hands, and couldn't resist drawing him down for another kiss.


End file.
